Writing Exercises Abridged
by anacsadder
Summary: A place for writing exercises based on Yu-Gi-Oh abridged.
1. Friday the 13th Abridged

**A/N: I haven't had much time to write anything new these last couple days, so I figured I'd fill the gap by posting an old writing exercise instead. Sorry to those you waiting for the conclusion of Swap. It should be done by the end of the week.**

 **Exercise summary:**

 **One, I wanted to experiment with writing a story using only dialogue.**

 **Two, I was thinking about how the Abridged cast playing Friday the 13** **th** **multiplayer together would be hilarious.**

 **Three, my other two stories are kind of heavy horror and I wanted to try my hand at humor.**

 **Four, I took a little liberty with the mechanics of the actual Friday the 13** **th** **game, but its mostly accurate.**

 **Exercise characters: Marik, Bakura, Atem, Melvin, Yugi, Ryou**

"'Cause baby I'm a fiiiire wooork! Come on watch my coooolors burst!"

"Marik," Bakura tried to interrupt.

"Watch me go aaaaah aaaah aaaah, as I shoot across the skyyyy!"

"Marik! Your microphone is on!" Bakura snapped.

"Yeah. So?" Marik asked.

"No one wants to listen to your off-key warbling," Bakura growled.

"Why do you hate fun, Bakura?" Marik asked.

"I don't hate-" Bakura began.

"'Cause Bakura is a gruuuumpy gus," Marik started singing.

"Ha! He's not wrong," Atem chuckled.

"Urg. I'm going to throttle both of your-"

"Hello? Helloooo? Is this thing on?"

"Melvin?!" Yugi exclaimed incredulously.

"Haha! I hope you cupcakes are ready to die!"

"Who in the bloody hell invited _him_?" Bakura demanded.

"Sorry," Ryou cut in sheepishly. "Kaiba said he was busy at work and we needed a sixth player."

"More like busy pouting because I drowned him in the toilet last time," Atem smirked.

"Ryou, what are you doing talking to that lunatic at all?" Bakura asked.

"We met on a horror film forum," Ryou explained. "He had some interesting things to say about Saw 2."

"Can we just get to the killing already?" Melvin whined.

…

"So who's the killer?" Yugi asked.

"Yes! Who's a main character now, you sods?" Ryou cheered.

"I think it's Ryou," Atem sighed.

"What's wrong, Pharaoh? Scared of the marshmallow?" Melvin mocked.

"He gets way too into it," Yugi said.

…

"Hey, Bakura. Bakura. Check out my butt in these shorts."

"I know what Tiffany's butt looks like, Marik. Shut up and help me search the drawers."

"You know what I found in these drawers?" Marik asked.

"What?" Bakura asked.

"My butt!" Marik crowed.

Bakura groaned.

"You should've let me rub him out when you had the chance," Melvin said.

Bakura laughed. "It's not too late. I'll even help. You hold him down, I'll rub him out."

"No one's rubbing me out but me," Marik huffed.

"A disappointment that weighs on my mind daily," Bakura muttered.

"The tart usually dies first, Marik," Ryou said.

"What are you im- Holy frig, he's outside! Scatter! Scatter!"

...

"Psst! You, the short one. Over here."

"Melvin?" Yugi asked.

"I've got the boat running. If you hurry I won't leave your panda ass here."

"You fixed the boat? How did you find the propeller so qui- Hey! Hey, stop, you're not supposed to-"

Melvin cackled.

"Yugi?" Atem asked.

"He's got the machete! I need a first aid spray!"

"Where are you?" Atem asked.

"I'm dead! He killed me. Melvin killed me!"

"Excuse me, are you stealing my victims?" Ryou asked indignantly.

Melvin laughed again. "Just a little friendly fire."

"Ooh, I've got a special execution for you," Ryou scowled.

"You're just worried because you know I could kill more of these twits than you can, _Amanda_ ," Melvin teased. "I don't even need to use Jason."

"We'll see about that," Ryou smirked.

…

"Ah!" Marik screamed.

"Is that a gas can?" Ryou smirked.

"No," Marik protested.

"Looks like a gas can to me," Ryou taunted. "You better not be thinking of escaping. I might have to rip your jaw off if you're thinking of escaping."

"Go stalk someone else, creeper," Marik whined. "No! Not the face! Help! Bakura!"

"Eat it, bitch," Atem grinned.

"Ah!" Ryou cried out. "Bloody flare gun. I'll get you for that!"

"If you see Bakura, tell him to stay away from Melvin," Atem advised.

"Why are we staying away from Melvin?" Marik asked.

"The same reason we always stay away from Melvin. He's trying to kill everybody."

...

"Hahaha! Yes! Run, Thief! Run!" Melvin cackled.

"We're supposed to be working together, you loony wanker," Bakura spat.

"But this is so much more fun," Melvin laughed.

"Have either of you twats found a way out yet?" Bakura demanded.

"Agh! Tiffany friggin sucks at fixing the friggin car!" Was Marik's response.

"I found the fuse, but Jason booby trapped the fuse box," Atem said. "I need a wrench."

"I have a wrench," Melvin said.

"You shut up," Bakura snapped.

…

"Get in the car!" Atem urged.

"Wait, wait, wait, where's Bakura?" Marik asked.

"Under a bush with a wrench-shaped dent it my skull," Bakura growled.

"Screw it, then. Punch it, Kenny!" Marik said.

"Way ahead of you, Tiffany," Atem said.

"No, turn left! Watch the tree! Ah! Go right!"

"If you're so great at this, why don't we stop and trade places?" Atem said.

"Maybe we should. I'll have us out of here in- Hey! You- you jerk face! Come back!"

"Stick out a leg, Tiffany! Maybe Melvin will give you a lift!" Atem laughed. "Ah!"

"He was right, you know. You really should watch the road," Ryou grinned.

"Oh my gods, he killed Kenny!" Marik gasped.

"A South Park reference? Really?" Ryou rolled his eyes. "I should break your spine for that."

"No!"

…

"Where is that little priss?" Melvin huffed.

"Tiffany is too bloody fast," Ryou sighed.

"You realize this is totally unfair," Marik pouted. "Ganging up on me like this."

"I thought you liked it two on one," Melvin teased.

"You're the one who likes it two on one!" Marik shot back.

"Have you checked the closets?" Bakura asked.

"Stay out of this, fluffy! You're dead!" Marik snapped.

"Aha!" Ryou crowd. "Now, I believe I promised you a broken spine..."

"Curses!" Marik yelled.

...

"It looks like it's just you and me, now," Ryou grinned.

"Fuck off," Melvin snapped.

"I told you I had special plans for you," Ryou cooed.

"I've got a knife," Melvin threatened.

"If that were true, you wouldn't be running," Ryou laughed.

"Let me go, you limey fruitcake!"

"But I wanted to show you the fire place," Ryou fake pouted.

"Fuck your fucking fire place!"

"Just a quick look. A quick, close look," Ryou smirked.

"Ah!"

"How's that for friendly fire?"

"My head! You're burning my head!" Melvin laughed. "For a minute there, I was worried this game would be boring."

"I told you," Ryou laughed too.

"Maybe next time I'll burn off your face," Melvin said.

"We're not playing with Melvin again," Atem said.

"Tell me about it," Marik said. "He always just stomps in and wrecks everything. Like the time he 'borrowed' my Skyrim profile and killed a bunch of shopkeepers..."

Melvin cackled.

" _That_ was actually kind of funny," Bakura chuckled.

"Oh, come on, guys, we can't kick him out before he gets a chance to be Jason," Ryou pouted.

"He spent half the game chasing me with a wrench," Bakura growled. "No thanks to you."

"Forget it, Amanda," Melvin said. "I'm sort of in the mood for Saw 3, anyway."

Ryou paused before saying, "Now that you mention it, I might be in the mood for Saw 3 as well. If the rest of you don't mind."

"Didn't you watch that yesterday?" Yugi asked.

"It's a _really_ good movie," Ryou said sheepishly.

"It's not _that_ good," Marik said. "Little Nicky is at least fifty times better."

"Go on, Ryou," Bakura said quickly. "We'll play something else."

"Goodnight, everyone," Ryou chirped.

"Right," Bakura sighed.

"Night, Ryou," Yugi chirped back.

"Melvin sucks at video games anyway," Marik said. "Seriously, there isn't even a character named Amanda."

Bakura smiled wryly. "You're lucky you're pretty, Marik."

"I know," Marik beamed.


	2. Burnt S'mores

**Exercise Summary: "Marik and Bakura go camping. Marik reads the map upside down and the two become hopelessly lost." -Prompt from random plot generator**

 **Characters: Melvin, Marik, Bakura, Ryou**

Melvin threw his hands up over his head. "You're such an idiot! Just let me take over!"

"Why? So you can murder Bakura and bury his body in the woods?" Marik glared at the translucent tulpa walking beside him.

"So I don't die of exposure because you're too dense to function!"

Bakura arched a white eyebrow at the two individuals hiking in front of him. He couldn't hear what Melvin was saying, but the tulpa looked more pissed than usual. "Is everything all right up there?"

"Yes!" Marik snapped.

"No!" Melvin snapped at the same time.

Bakura paused. He didn't need to hear Melvin to recognize the word 'no' on his lips. "Marik, we've been walking for six hours. Are we almost at the campsite or not?"

"Yes," Marik insisted. "It's just..." He held the map out in front of him and rotated it ninety degrees. Then ninety more degrees. Then back again "If he'd stopped yelling over my shoulder for five minutes and let me figure out why the map isn't working..."

Melvin gripped the sides of his head like he was trying to keep it from exploding. He reached for Marik's neck like he wanted to strangle him, but of course his hands passed right through it. Marik was too absorbed in the map to notice.

Bakura narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean the map isn't working?"

Melvin's head lolled back and to the side. The look he gave Bakura was full of weary, sardonic frustration.

"I think the compass is broken," Marik frowned.

Holding Bakura's gaze, Melvin cocked his thumb, put his pointer finger to his temple, and mimed shooting himself.

There were days that Bakura didn't blame Melvin for being bonkers. He sighed and crossed his arms. "I'm afraid to ask, but what in the bloody blazes are you on about?"

Marik pointed at the compass rose. "It's not working."

Bakura pursed his lips. "Elaborate, Marik," he pressed. "What is it meant to be doing?"

"You know," Marik insisted, getting agitated now. "You point it where you want to go and then follow it. Am I really the only one around here who knows how to use a friggin compass?"

Melvin threw his arms out wide. "And there you fucking go!"

Bakura pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't even know where to begin. "It's a _picture,_ Marik."

"Obviously," Marik said.

"It! Can't! Move!" Melvin yelled for the dozenth time.

"What do you call this, then, smart ass?" Marik tilted the map side to side.

Melvin cried out unintelligibly and punched at a tree. When he couldn't actually punch the tree, he just got madder.

As amusing as it was to watch the tulpa whip himself into an impotent rage, Bakura didn't want to be stuck out here any more than Melvin. "It's not a real compass," Bakura explained very slowly. "It's a _picture_ of a compass."

Marik frowned at the map.

"Does a picture of a watch actually tell the time?" Bakura pressed. At least he had more patience than Melvin.

"Ugh, I get it, okay? I'm not stupid," Marik huffed. "But what now?"

"I cram that map through your ear until whatever slush you have up there squirts out the other side!" Melvin ranted, but Marik ignored him. Shouting threats was the only thing he could really do in this state.

Bakura bit back his first response and instead asked, "Did you bring an actual compass?"

"I didn't think we needed one," Marik said.

The thief rolled his eyes. "No matter. I'll have the Ring point us back to the car." He started to reach under his shirt, but Marik grabbed his wrist.

"No! That's cheating."

"Marik," Bakura sighed. "I'm hungry. I'm sweaty. I'm tired. We have no idea where we are. Melvin is halfway to a homicidal rage."

Melvin glared daggers at Bakura and held up three fingers.

"Fine, three quarters of the way to a homicidal rage," Bakura corrected. "I think it's time to cut our losses and go home."

"Bear Grylls never uses magic," Marik huffed.

"Hang Bear Grylls!" Melvin yelled. "Bear Grylls is a tool that chugs his own piss!"

Marik's jaw dropped and he finally looked at his tulpa. "You take that back. Bear Grylls is a hero and an inspiration."

Melvin suddenly looked smugly pleased with himself. He crossed his arms. "No."

Marik clenched his fists at his sides and stomped his foot. "Take it back!"

"No! That show's a fake pile of shit. What, I'm supposed to believe they actually left some guy out in the wilderness to survive or die _and_ filmed it? I wish. The camera men are probably all carrying snacks."

Marik lunged at him, through him, into a bush behind him.

Melvin cackled. "How do _you_ like it?"

Bakura leaned against a tree. He didn't know what Melvin had said to flip the roles so quickly, but at least he looked what passed for happy. "When you two are done squabbling, I'd like to see the map."

Marik struggled to his feet. "But _I'm_ the expedition leader."

"Marik, if you don't give me the bloody map, I'll throttle you _for_ Melvin." Bakura held out a hand.

The blond pouted and surrendered the map. Then he sat down on a rock to pick leaves and sticks out of his hair.

Bakura uncrumpled the paper and shook it out. If he was right about the trail they entered on... and they hadn't crossed that river... He looked at the back of his dejected companion's head. Then he blew his wild, white bangs out of his face and looked up at the sky. The sun barely peeped through the trees. "We can walk one more hour that way." He pointed. "If we find the lake, we can stop for the night. If not, I'm using the Ring to point us back to the car."

Melvin slumped his shoulders and hung his head. Marik hopped up, grinning. "Yes! Onward!"

Marik yammered on happily about fishing and campfire songs and s'mores. Bakura pretended to listen while he thought about sucking melted marshmallows off of Marik's lips. Melvin remained remarkably quiet, apparently resigned to his fate.

They managed to reach the lake before sundown. Marik stood on the shore with his hands on his hips and a breeze rippling his golden hair. "Here we are, Fluffy. Two men, braving the elements, overcoming adversity-"

"Setting up the tent before it gets dark," Bakura interjected as he hoisted his bag off his shoulders.

"Yes, setting up..." He trailed off. "Hold up. What do you mean _the_ tent?"

"You expected me to carry two tents?" Bakura raised an eyebrow. "I'm not your bloody camel."

"We can't share a tent!" Marik protested.

"Why not?"

"It's... weird. We'd be all... sleeping... right next to each other..."

Bakura shrugged and started unpacking the tent in question. "Sleep outside with the snakes, then. I don't care."

"Sn- snakes?" Marik's eyes widened. "What kind of snakes?"

"Rattle snakes, I expect," Bakura continued nonchalantly as he snapped tent poles together.

"Why do _I_ have to sleep outside with the snakes?" Marik scowled.

The albino finally looked up at Marik. "Are you scared?"

"No!" Marik protested. "I can sleep outside with snakes. I could sleep outside with twenty snakes!"

"Then it's settled." Bakura unfolded the tarp.

Marik fidgeted with the strap of his pack. Melvin laughed. Marik glared at him, but it only made him laugh harder. Lavender eyes studied muddy hiking boots. "Though, you know," Marik said suddenly, "it could be cold."

"Good thing you brought a sleeping bag," Bakura said.

"In- in survival books they always say to- to huddle together for warmth. When it's cold."

Kneeling on the ground, Bakura looked over his shoulder. "Did you just suggest cuddling for warmth?"

"No," Marik protested. "I said 'huddle.' It's very different. It's a survival technique. A serious, totally legit survival technique. We should both definitely sleep in the tent, so we don't get that hyper thing..."

"You mean hypothermia?" Bakura asked.

"Yes, that one," Marik said.

The narrow shoulders rose and lowered. "If you insist." He turned his back to the other male again, and then grinned.

Marik put his bag down next to Bakura's. "So you keep doing that. I'm going to look for firewood."

Bakura grunted a reply. Marik headed off into the treeline. Melvin glanced back and forth between the two and then begrudgingly followed Marik.

Marik glanced over his shoulder, and then rolled his eyes. "The clinginess doesn't suit you."

"As much I'd rather stand around watching Florence wrestle the tent," Melvin grumbled, "the idea of you wandering off into the woods alone with our body makes me edgy."

"Look at the parasite, pretending to help," Marik said sarcastically.

"I thought you preferred the company of parasites." Melvin glanced around, unimpressed by their surroundings. Maybe a hunting trip might have been okay, but the thought of sitting around watching Marik eat marshmallows and sing songs was already making him want to burn the place.

"Bakura isn't a parasite," Marik growled as he tucked sticks under his arm.

Melvin looked at him and grinned. "Yet you immediately know who I'm talking about."

Marik shot a glare at him, but didn't answer.

"Do you honestly think his host feels any differently about him than you do about me?" Melvin cocked his head. "At least our goals align occasionally. Really, binky boy, where would you be if I hadn't killed your father? Certainly not frolicking in the fucking woods."

Marik threw down the wood he was carrying. "Bakura is nothing like you! Okay? Stop tormenting me because you're bored!"

Melvin pressed his lips together. "Gods, I hate you."

"Trust me, the feeling is mutual," the shorter individual grumbled as he recollected his sticks and branches.

By the time Marik returned, Bakura had the tent up and was clearing a place for a fire pit. He looked up as Marik poured his armload onto the ground and wiped the sweat-plastered bangs from his forehead.

"Tell me, am I allowed to use a lighter, or must I rub sticks together like a twit?" Bakura's question dripped with sarcasm.

Marik sunk onto a log and crossed his legs. "I'll give you a pass this time. I'm too hungry." He hugged his knees to his chest and rested his chin between them. "Bear Grylls makes it look so easy."

Melvin sat on the ground opposite Marik, crossed his legs, and put his chin in his hands. He stared blankly at the pyramid of sticks Bakura was making as he muttered, "Maybe you should try drinking your own piss."

Marik's cheeks flushed. "Would you stop bringing that up? It's starting to get weird."

"I'll stop bringing it up when it stops bothering you," Melvin grinned.

Bakura frowned at Melvin and then asked Marik, "Does he really have to be here?"

"Aw, am I cock blocking you?" Melvin rolled his eyes. "Poor little furby."

Marik's whole face turned pink. It was harder for Marik, because he could actually hear Melvin, but he opted to follow Bakura's lead and ignored the tulpa. "Obviously he wouldn't be here if I knew how to get rid of him."

Melvin's face twisted into a snarl. He stood up, walked around in front of Bakura, and crouched down to make sure he had his attention. When he spoke, he formed each word carefully. "Virginia keeps a condom in his wallet. He thinks it makes him cool. Don't give us any diseases."

"Oh my gods, just get the frig out of here!" Marik screamed, closing his eyes and tugging at his hair.

Melvin laughed, and kept laughing as he walked toward the lake.

Bakura blinked after him. "Did he say something about a condom?"

"No!" Marik answered quickly. "He said... condemn... He condemns your soul to the... shadow realm."

Bakura smirked. "Whatever you say, Marik." He returned to constructing the fire, using a knife to whittle bits of kindling off some of the larger sticks. However, he couldn't help sneaking peeks at Marik as he bent over his pack to dig out the chocolate and marshmallows.

While Bakura tried to get the pile of dry leaves burning, Marik stole the knife to strip the bark off of two sticks. After some growling and cursing and blowing from Bakura, the pair sat side-by-side on a log next to the beginnings of a decent fire. The last rays of sunlight faded over the lake. Bakura jabbed the sharpened stick into the bag of marshmallows and pulled it out with a random number speared on the tip. He pulled one off and stuffed it in his mouth.

"You know what we should do?" Marik asked.

"Hm?" Bakura chewed the marshmallow slowly.

"We should play fluffy bunny."

Bakura swallowed. "Fluffy what now?"

"We take turns stuffing our cheeks with marshmallows and saying 'fluffy bunny.' If you run out of room, drop a marshmallow, or can't say the words, you lose."

"That sounds like a stupid waste of marshmallows."

"Don't worry. There's a second bag."

"You brought two bags of marshmallows, but you didn't bring a tent?"

"It's a good thing I did. If I hadn't, we wouldn't be able to play fluffy bunny."

Bakura studied Marik's face. "What does the winner get?"

"Hm..." Marik tapped his chin. "The first s'more?"

"I'm not playing a stupid game if I get a stupid prize," Bakura said.

Marik pouted at the fire for a moment. Then he beamed at Bakura. "Fine, if you win you can pick whatever one thing you want."

"Any one thing?" Bakura asked.

Marik nodded. "I mean, you won't, because I'm the fluffy bunny champion."

Bakura snorted. "Fine, I guess I can't resist a blank check."

"Great! I'll let you go first."

With a deep sigh, Bakura cheeked a marshmallow. There was a short silence.

"Come on, Bakura. You have to say it," Marik pressed.

The albino rolled his eyes. "Fluffy bunny," he grumbled.

Marik snickered. "More like grumpy bunny." He shoved a marshmallow in his mouth. "Fluffy bunny."

They went back and forth. Around the time Bakura shoved his fourth marshmallow into his mouth, Marik could barely restrain his giggles. "Fuffy unny," he said.

Then Marik did giggle around his mouthful of sugar fluff. "Thtop looking sho sherious, ish not fair." When all Bakura did was raise an eyebrow, Marik giggled again. "Okay, okay..." He stuffed in a fourth marshmallow and said the words.

The game was just as ridiculous as Bakura expected it to be, but it was getting surprisingly difficult as he reached his sixth marshmallow. Fortunately for Bakura, Marik could barely contain his laughter.

"Ou ook ike a fuffy unny," Marik snickered. "Our hair ith ike earsh..."

Bakura wrinkled his nose.

Marik covered his mouth and laughed.

"Ay!" Bakura protested. "At's eaing."

Marik laughed harder. He uncovered his mouth with a wad of soggy marshmallows cupped in his palms. "You still have to say it."

Bakura rolled his eyes.

Marik snickered. "Come on, grumpy bunny. If you want to win, you have to say it."

"Fuffy... gk... unny..." Then he spit his marshmallows out on the ground. "Happy?"

"Very," Marik giggled. He looked around for a moment, and then opted to throw his marshmallows into the fire and wipe his hands on his jeans. "What's the prize going to be?"

Once more, Bakura thought of sticky, sugary lips. He wanted to make his one thing count. "I'll get back to you," he said. He speared a marshmallow and stuck it in the flames, watching it turn into a tiny torch and then blowing it out. Fingers as white as marshmallows peeled off the black stuff and pushed it between pale lips.

"Gross," Marik commented as he meticulously browned his over a hot coal.

"It's bitter," Bakura said. "I like bitter."

Tan fingers pinched the marshmallow between a square of chocolate and a square of graham cracker. He took a bite and spoke as he chewed. "It's much better like this."

"Is it?" Bakura cocked his head.

Marik shoved the other half of the treat in his mouth and nodded.

"I suppose I should try it." Before Marik could respond, Bakura grabbed the back of his head and pulled their mouths together. He held the kiss just long enough to part his lips and run the tip of his tongue across the little valley between Marik's lips. Then he sat back and sucked his lower lip, testing the flavor of chocolate, marshmallow, and Marik. "You've got a point, Marik. This is bettter."

Marik stared with wide eyes and red cheeks. "B- Bakura!"

"You said I could have one thing," Bakura pointed out calmly. "If kisses were off the table, you should have specified." He lit the rest of his marshmallow on fire, blew it out, and pulled it off the stick with his tongue.

"I was eating. You can't kiss me while I'm eating," Marik protested.

Bakura grinned at him. "So I _can_ kiss you otherwise?"

"You have to do it right," Marik insisted. "You can't spring it on me when I'm not ready."

Bracing his hands on the log next to Marik, Bakura leaned closer. "Fine. Get ready."

"You can't kiss me now! The flow of the moment is all gone."

"Fucking gods, Marik, never mind." Bakura stabbed another random amount of marshmallows out of the bag and stuck them in the fire. "What makes you such an expert, anyway? Do a lot of kissing while you were running around stealing god cards?"

"Yes, I kissed loads of people. Women. Hot women. Couldn't keep them off me. I was like, 'leave me alone, ladies, I've got serious conquering the world business to attend to,' and they were all, 'but Marik, your abs are so sexy, it's not fair...'" He trailed off as he met Bakura's flat gaze.

"Was that your first-"

"No!"

A slow grin spread across Bakura's face. "So... that was the best kiss you've ever had."

"I... you..." Marik spluttered. "Shut up, Bakura." Pouting sullenly at the fire, he started another marshmallow.

Bakura laughed.

The sky darkened, and then brightened again star by star. The pair slipped in and out of silence. Marik spoke first and most often; about how he always wanted to try fishing; about this or that sound out in the woods and the possibility of those sounds being snakes, bears, or slenderman; about how he should have rinsed off in the lake before it got too cold; about the how the stars over the mountain compared to the stars over the desert. Bakura contributed occasionally, but mostly half listened as he enjoyed the way the lavender eyes sparkled when Marik was excited.

The fire cooled. Goosebumps spread across white skin and tan skin in equal measure. Bugs closed in as the radius of the smoke cloud receded. Marik decided it was time to go huddle for warmth. Bakura agreed.

Ryou appeared on a moonlit beach in the middle of a piney forest. Translucent white eyebrows drew together as he took in the sky, the lake, and the dark shapes and shadows surrounding him. If the moon had been smaller, he might not have noticed the barely there figure sprawled in the grass ten feet away. Ryou glanced around once more. Noting no other signs of life, he sighed and approached Melvin. The tulpa's eyes were closed, his face relaxed.

Ryou cleared his throat. "Um... excuse me?"

Melvin neither spoke nor stirred.

Ryou sighed and sat in the cold grass next to him. "Bloody Bakura," he murmured as he shivered a little. Then he put on a brave face and tried to poke Melvin in the shoulder. To his surprise, the specter was actually quite warm.

Melvin shot upright as his hand flew to the place Ryou's finger had passed through him. Violet eyes fluttered as they finally found Ryou's face, but Melvin still didn't speak.

Ryou recoiled slightly, even though he knew Melvin couldn't physically hurt him right now. "I'm dreadfully sorry if I woke you or something," he explained rapidly, "but I was hoping you might know where we are."

Melvin's eyes narrowed as he leaned closer.

"Um..." Ryou glanced around, but there was still no sign of Bakura or Marik. "I shouldn't have bothered you, I'll just..." He started to stand up.

Melvin rolled his eyes, covered his ears, and shook his head.

Ryou hesitated. "Pardon?"

Melvin placed his hand over his chest, covered his ears and shook his head, and then pointed at Ryou.

"You... can't hear me?" Ryou looked puzzled. "But... you can hear the Ring spirit, right? I know you try to talk to him sometimes..." He trailed off because Melvin was staring at him again.

The tulpa looked around, and then gestured for Ryou to follow him. He led him along the lake shore for several yards and then pointed at a clearing in the woods.

Ryou spotted the tent. "Camping? The Ring spirit went camping?" He looked back at Melvin.

Melvin patted himself on the chest and pointed at the tent again.

Ryou snorted. "I suppose it would have been Marik's idea, wouldn't it?"

The spiky head lolled back and the tulpa heaved a soundless sigh of frustration. Scowling now, he alternated pointing at the tent with touching his ears, his nose, his palm, his tongue...

Brown eyes blinked. "Oh, you hear what Marik hears."

Melvin nodded once and made a so-so gesture with his hand.

Ryou cocked his head, fascinated now. "But you can understand me?"

The tulpa pointed at his eyes, and then ghosted a finger across Ryou's lips.

Ryou felt the touch as a whisp of warm air. "You read lips?"

Melvin was too busy puzzling over his hand to acknowledge Ryou's question.

"What?" Ryou asked before realizing his mistake and waving a hand in Melvin's field of vision to get his attention. When the tulpa looked at him, he repeated the question.

Melvin pointed at himself, touched his palm, and then pointed at Ryou. He looked confused, but also faintly excited.

"You..." Ryou fumbled for the meaning. It was the same gestured he'd used when talking about the sense of touch. "Feel? Feel me?"

Melvin's grin widened and he stepped forward suddenly, plunging a hand into Ryou's chest.

The sudden heat stunned the shorter male. Ryou simply stared down at the hand inside him until it withdrew.

Melvin pointed at Ryou and then rubbed his upper arms. _You. Cold._

"You're warm..." Ryou murmured. Then he blinked a few times and asked, "Is that not normal? Feeling me, I mean?"

All Melvin had to do was point at the tent.

"Right, you feel what Marik feels..." Ryou frowned. "Do you always feel everything he feels? Sense everything he senses?"

The translucent hand made the so-so gesture again.

"Even now?"

The tulpa threw back his head and laughed soundlessly, hugging himself like Ryou had just told the funniest joke in the world. Once he'd regained some composure, he nodded and grinned a cheeky grin.

"What's so funny?" Ryou asked.

Melvin pointed at Ryou and pointed at the tent. Then he curled his hand into a loose circle, opened his mouth, and moved his hand forward and back in front of it.

Ryou's jaw dropped. "He what? That's why he kicked me out?!" Pale fists clenched in wild white hair as Ryou paced the shoreline. "This can't be happening... This can't be happening..." Ryou stopped and faced Melvin. "You're screwing with me right? Please tell me you're screwing with me..."

The tulpa crossed his arms and tilted his head.

Ryou crumpled to the grass and covered his eyes with his arm. "I hate him, so much..." A warm breeze alerted him to Melvin's presence. Ryou looked up and found the violet eyes studying him closely. Curiously. Ryou sighed. "I'm not really surprised, you know. He's wanted to shag Marik since the first day he saw him. I just... really hoped that Marik wouldn't let it happen. I mean, it's maddening, right? Being forced to experience the world through a... veil all the time?"

Melvin sat back, but he didn't try to say anything.

Ryou carried on, finding he couldn't stop now that he'd started. "I don't have any say over where I live, who my friends are, what I wear, what I eat, where I spend the bloody weekend, if I even make it to school on any given day... That's just something I learned to exist with, I guess. They're all things I can catch up on later... But I was still hoping, _hoping_ , that this whole damn game he's playing would have been over before he lost my virginity for me. He's not even going to let me participate vicariously. Body-stealing wanker!"

The tulpa shifted into a spot next to the hikari and the two glared silently at the star-dusted water until morning.


	3. You Just want to Dance

**Exercise Summary: Make a list of five ships, set youtube song playlist to random, and write the first five songs that play next to the ships. Then come up with a oneshot inspired by the song. This one is Deathshipping matched with 'Hey Yeah' by OutKast.**

 **Characters: Melvin, Ryou**

"I'm getting bored, cupcake. Are we doing this or not?" Melvin grumbled as he paced the room behind Ryou.

"Hang on. I want to make sure we do this properly." Truth be told he was trying to collect his nerves. Being alone with Melvin had seemed like a better idea before he'd, well, gotten himself into room alone with Melvin.

"What is properly? We strip, we fuck, you get some attention while you wait for Little Kuriboh to wade through season 4, I get to torture a main character..." His voice lowered. "At least as close to a main character as it gets..."

Ryou winced. "See, it's that last part that's the issue. Is that really what our audience wants to see?"

"The fangirls love it when I torture people!" Melvin threw his arms wide, grinning. "Who wouldn't?"

"According to a lot of these fan fictions, they also love it when I tame you like a lion," Ryou said, gesturing at the screen.

Melvin leaned on the back of Ryou's chair, frowning. "Listen, cream puff. If you want my cooperation, you're going to have to make some concessions. You're the one that misses the screen time. I do my best work off screen."

Ryou rubbed his temples. "Some concessions. Not all concessions."

"I already agreed to not kill you. I'm not going to lie back and let you teach me how to love. It's disgusting." Melvin crossed his arms and stuck out his tongue.

Ryou spun his chair to face Melvin fully. "Well I don't fancy another trip to the hospital!"

They stared at each other.

Ryou ran his fingers through his hair. "Okay. I will let you top, but you can't tie me up. I want to be free to leave if things go south."

"I thought it was all about going south," Melvin smirked. When Ryou glared at him, he growled and rolled his eyes. "Fine. I won't tie you up, but you have to let me scratch and bite."

"Only if you don't draw blood," Ryou said.

"Oh, come on!" Melvin threw his hands in the air and started pacing again. "There has to be a little blood! If you won't let me draw blood, you have to at least let me choke you!"

"No!" Ryou's expression was horrified. "No choking!"

Melvin frowned and tossed his bangs out of his face. "If you let me scratch and bite as much and as hard as I want, I won't tie you up, I won't choke you, and I'll give you ten minutes of prep before I shove it in."

Ryou frowned. "Don't bite anything off. I want to be in one piece when it's over."

Melvin laughed. "Fine, fine. I'm sure the fangirls would never forgive me if I mutilated one of their hikari bishis. This show is all about the bishis."

"Right." Ryou stood up and moved toward the bed. He was still nervous. "Let's start this fanfic, then."

"It already started a little bit ago," Melvin said.

"What? When?" Ryou blinked.

Melvin shrugged. "Around about the time I was complaining about being bored."

"Ugh. We can't let the fangirls see that conversation. That's not what they want to see."

"Well you can't jump right into the fucking. Even blatant fan service needs a flimsy set up. This is the flimsy set up."

Ryou sat on the bed and peeled off his socks. "It doesn't do much for getting into the right head-space, but I suppose it will have to do."

Melvin was on Ryou the moment he leaned back. "Get it together, cream puff. I've been in the head-space for the last twenty minutes."

Ryou closed his eyes and took a breath. Then he opened them and pulled Melvin into a kiss. The kiss deepened and turned into little nips as hands crawled under clothing. Melvin raked his nails from Ryou's shoulders, over his pecs, and down either side of his stomach. When they reached his waist band, they started working at his fly. The albino gasped and arched as teeth attacked the sensitive skin at the side of his neck. Pale fingers dug into a bronze back, clawing at ridges of scar tissue.

"See? Scratching and biting makes everything more fun."

Ryou just moaned as Melvin's hand dipped between his thighs. Clothes fell away. Sweat-slicked bodies rubbed and writhed together. Pulses throbbed. Welts stung. Breath rushed from Ryou's compressed lungs as Melvin finally flipped and mounted him. Then Ryou was clawing at bed sheets and biting at pillows as Melvin growled and panted on top of him.

"Ah! That's bloody fantastic... Don't stop, don't stop, don't... Ah!"

Melvin's fingers dug into Ryou's upper arms. The headboard echoed his rhythm on the wall.

A few final, good, hard thrusts had Melvin using the nape of Ryou's neck to bite back a loud, shuddering moan as he finished.

Before Ryou could catch his breath, Melvin had him on his back with a fist in his hair. He yanked hard, until tears glistened in the corners of Ryou's eyes. He finished the British teen with his hand, leering at the welts and bruises blossoming across the paper-white skin.

"You know, you're not half bad to look at, cupcake. I'm glad you talked me into this. Even if was just for some T-rated fan service."

Ryou eyed the face looming over him. With the thrum of arousal ebbing into the drift of afterglow, some of the awkwardness returned. Instinct wanted to cuddle up to something warm and breathing. Logic concluded that cuddling Melvin was just begging to be squeezed to death. "Yeah... Um... Thanks for the whole 'not killing me' thing. I'm sure that wasn't easy."

Melvin laughed. "I'd better get going before I gag on the fluff." He stood up and collected his clothes. On his way out the door he held up his thumb and pinky, mouthing the words 'call me.' With a wink, he was gone. And the fanfic was over.


	4. Handcuffs

**Exercise Summary: "Marik and Bakura are handcuffed together. They've lost the key."-Random plot generator.**

 **Characters: Ryou, Marik, Bakura, Melvin**

Bakura came to feeling like he hadn't slept at all. His _mind_ was certainly awake, but the blanket felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. This had been happening more and more frequently since he'd moved in with Marik. Evidently Ryou had become quite the night owl in the past month or so. Initially Bakura hadn't seen any harm in allowing Ryou to marathon horror movies on Netflix until the odd hours of the morning. After the first morning waking up on the couch with a crick in his neck, Ryou agreed to make sure he always made it to bed and that was that.

As time went on and the various little agonies settled more deeply into the muscles and joints of the body they shared, Bakura wondered if maybe another chat was in order. They could take turns resting their individual minds for months, but a human body could only take so many sleepless nights.

With a massive effort, Bakura lifted the arm that had been bent at a careless angle over his head. Somewhere between his shoulder and his elbow the limb had gone almost completely numb. He shook it out as best he could as he opened his eyes.

Marik stirred, licking at his dry lips with his dry tongue. His mouth tasted like pennies and cotton, but waking up with strange tastes in his mouth wasn't unusual. His darker half had a tendency to chew or suck on anything he could get in his mouth. Jewelry, toothbrushes, pencils, straws, plastic flatware, his own hair... He'd even chewed open a glowstick once. Keeping a cupboard stocked with gummies, jerky, lollipops, and chewing gum helped some. Marik worked his body sore trying to exercise off the extra calories, but at least his efforts had saved their fingernails. It was all about finding balance.

The sound of cars, birds, and pedestrians caused his eyelids to flutter open. Even with the blinds shut the sun dazzled him. He wondered about the time and arrived at the conclusion that Melvin must've broken another alarm clock. Finding an uncrowded stretch of street for his morning run would be a hopeless endeavor at this point. Marik growled to himself and tried to roll over, only to find his arm wrapped around his stomach and trapped under his body. He pushed himself into a half sitting position as he tugged at the limb. An annoyed grunt caused him to roll back the opposite way so suddenly that he found himself wedged between the bed at the wall.

"Marik?!" A deep voice exclaimed.

"Bakura?!" Marik struggled to sit up, but an as yet unidentified anchor still had a grip on his wrist.

Bakura noticed the handcuffs first. One glinting, silver bracelet secured around his pasty wrist, and the other around Marik's much tanner wrist. "Is this supposed to be a joke?" Under other circumstances, he might not have minded waking up next to the attractive Egyptian, but Marik was such a repressed git there was no way this situation could be what Bakura hoped it could be. As such, he opted for anger.

Marik flopped the upper half of his body onto the edge of the bed. Lavender eyes absorbed the situation. Bakura's room. Bakura's bed. Bakura's arm attached to Marik's arm. "You know, if you wanted to come with me this morning, all you had to do was ask. I would've waited for you."

"What are you blathering about? I didn't do this," Bakura protested as he shook his arm. Marik's arm flopped and dangled limply at the other end of the chain.

"Well _I_ didn't do it," Marik insisted.

The two held eye contact for a long moment. Each eventually deciphered that the other was telling the truth. Marik looked just as confused as Bakura looked irritated.

In the silence that followed, a wild, tittering laugh filled Marik's head, growing until it spilled out into the rest of the room.

"Oh, bollocks," Bakura grumbled. "Him?"

"Pardon me, Spirit," a softer, sheepish voice piped up. "It was an accident."

Bakura and Marik turned to see the translucent form of Ryou standing at the foot of the bed. "You?" Bakura almost couldn't believe it. The brown puppy eyes framed by soft, white bangs shone with concentrated innocence. How did Ryou even own a pair of handcuffs?

"I'm afraid I..." his eyes focused on a point past Bakura and Marik. "We need to come clean about a few things."

The two young men both knew who would be there before they even turned around. The deranged human dandelion loomed causally over the head board. He'd stopped laughing, but the toothy grin never faded.

There was a long pause as Ryou waited for him to speak. When he didn't, the hikari rubbed the back of his head nervously. "You see, for the past... er... It all started several weeks ago. They'd finally released the Poughkeepsie Tapes on Netflix."

"I came in to see what the screaming was about and decided to stick around," Melvin finally interjected from the head of the bed.

"After the film, we got to talking, and..." Ryou tapped his pointer fingers together.

"It turns out your landlord is the kinkiest little cream puff I've ever laid hands on."

Ryou chuckled as his cheeks flushed pink. "To get to the point... yes."

Bakura's eyes shot open. "You mean you've been letting," he gestured behind him, " _that_ do _things_ to our body? Is that why I'm always so bloody tired?"

"I suppose that would explain the scratches on my back," Marik mused as he played with a piece of hair. When he met Bakura's accusatory glare, he threw up his hands defensively. "Well, excuse me, Bakura, but mysterious scratches and bruises and blood stains are par for the course when you share your body with _him._ I stopped asking years ago. I don't see you making any astute observations about the state of _your_ body."

"There are a number of ways to cause pain without leaving marks," Melvin said.

"It was _my_ body first," Ryou cut it. "I'll do what I please with it, thank you very much. Like _you_ would consult _me_ about everything _you_ want..."

Bakura looked at Marik. "How are you so calm about this?"

"I've always known he was gay." Marik shrugged. "Sharing a body means making sacrifices, Bakura. Quit being such a bossyboots all the time." He paused and looked at Melvin. "Wait, we _are_ topping, right? We better be topping..."

"I'm not a-" Bakura started to raise his hand but it only moved a few inches. He glared at the chain connecting him to Marik. "Fine, fine. I suppose it could be... worse..." At least he could pretend he was fucking Marik vicariously. Maybe this would finally coax Marik out of the closet. "Just get this thing off of us."

Ryou sucked air in between his teeth. "The thing about that is," he clasped his hands behind his back, "we don't have the key, right now."

"What?" Bakura growled and put his free hand over his face. "Why the hell not?"

Ryou and Melvin exchanged a glance, and then looked at Marik. "Someone sort of swallowed it," Ryou confessed.

"You friggin what?" Marik clutched his stomach as he glared the statuesque mad man.

"I was caught up in the moment," Melvin shrugged, still grinning. His eyes danced with twisted mirth.

"You mean... We're stuck like this? Until I..." His eyes dilated. "With him stuck to me?"

"I could take over for you if you like," the mad spirit's grin stretched impossibly wide.

"No!" Marik snapped. "No. You've done enough." He clawed his way across the bed, dragging Bakura behind him. "Frigging maniac," he was grumbling to himself. "Frigging swallowing frigging... everything..."

The maniac cackled. "Yes. _Everything._ "

The young man felt his face go hot. He gritted his teeth."Shut up!" Marik dragged Bakura into the bathroom and doubled over in front of the toilet. He began making choking, gagging noises as his abs heaved.

Bakura found himself yanked over at the waist, leaning awkwardly over Marik's back. He spent a moment in silence, watching Marik's shoulder blades shift under his golden skin as he tried to think of what to do.

Marik's eyes watered. His throat stung and his abs were starting to burn from the exertion. Nothing came up, though. The key might not even be in his stomach any more, depending on how many hours had passed. He'd get Bakura to punch him in the gut, though, before he'd let Bakura stand there while he used the bathroom. Even the thought of such a thing was humiliating.

"Try using a finger," Bakura offered.

"Can't," Marik grumbled between forced wretches. "No... gag reflex..."

The spirit of the Ring snorted and rolled his eyes. _Of course not_ , he thought to himself. "What about a bobby pin? You must have something like that lying around."

The Egyptian shot Bakura an incredulous look through his curtain of golden hair. "Do I look like I'd have bobby pins lying around?"

"Yes, but I'll take that as a no," Bakura huffed. He studied the cuff around his wrist. It ought to have had a safety release if it was a toy. Either the mad spirit had broken that, too, or these were more than the sort of cheap, novelty handcuffs that came with cop play-sets. Once more Bakura found himself wondering just what his landlord had been up to while Bakura wasn't paying attention.

"Spirit," the boy in question said from the doorway. "There might be a way to get another key. We need to get the receipt, though."

"Where is the receipt?" Bakura raised an eyebrow.

Ryou fidgeted. "I wish you'd just let us handle this. All we need is an hour."

"Tell me where the receipt is, yadonushi," Bakura growled.

"If you don't, I will," Melvin said. "We've come this far. I want to see the look on his face."

Ryou sighed. "There's a box in the top of the closet. It's the one with 'Monster World figures' written in green marker. It's... um..." He trailed off and looked at Melvin.

Bakura dragged Marik away from the toilet. The two had to work together to get the box down. It rattled in a metallic way that definitely didn't sound like Monster World figurines. Ryou always wrapped those carefully with tissue paper before putting them away. Bakura unfolded the lid and looked inside.

Marik reached in and pinched a strip of leather attached to a black, rubber ball between two fingers. He lifted it out of the box, letting it dangle in the air between him and Bakura. "Is this a gag?"

Ryou blushed. Melvin laughed. Bakura glared at Melvin and snatched the gag away from Marik.

"I never would've pegged you for a prude, Bakura," Marik teased.

"You're not the one with a host putting his physical well-being at the mercy of a bloody psychopath."

As he spoke, Marik fished a black case out of the bottom of the box. "Relax. Gags, handcuffs, and blindfolds are hardly..." He trailed off as he opened the case. "What...?" He exchanged a glance with Melvin, communicating quickly and quietly across their link. His eyebrows went up. "Oh, look, there's the receipt." He pulled it out of the case and shut it quickly. "Better hurry up. No time to waste."

Bakura had observed the exchange suspiciously. "What's in the box, Marik?"

"Nothing important. Let's go." Marik tried to stand up, but Bakura tugged him back down.

"Marik."

Ryou sighed. "You realize he's never going to let me have any fun ever again, right?"

"He has to sleep some time," Melvin grinned. "I can wait."

"The box, Marik," Bakura repeated.

Marik sighed. "Do you... know what a violet wand is?"

"Electric play? With him? Gods, Ryou, next you're going to be saying you let him suffocate you," Bakura growled.

Ryou looked guiltily at his feet.

"Ryou!"

"It's a harmless toy, Spirit!" Ryou protested. "The lady at the shop assured me it was perfectly safe! You can try it yourself if you're so worried!"

Melvin leaned against the wall and crossed his arms behind his head, looking far too pleased with the Ring spirit's aggravation. "Ooh, let's. I want to see if he makes the same faces."

"Hand cuffs," Marik pointed out. "Still on."

"Exactly," Melvin chuckled. "He wouldn't be able to get away."

Bakura elected to ignore Marik's surprisingly more annoying half. "Ryou." He only used his host's name when he really, really meant it, and Ryou responded to the tone. "We have the receipt. Now what?" He didn't fancy being handcuffed to Melvin, should the other personality decide to take over.

"We need to take the receipt to the shop to get a replacement key," Ryou explained.

"You mean I have to walk into a sex shop handcuffed to him?" Marik's eyes widened. "But everyone will think we're gay!"

Bakura rolled his eyes. "Perish the thought."

"I'll take over," Melvin said.

"Marik, don't you dare," Bakura growled.

Marik considered his options. "Is there a collar in that box?"

Bakura almost dared to hope Marik had changed his mind, but doubted he could be so lucky. Not with the way the rest of the morning had panned out.

The sheepish look Ryou cast at Bakura was the only answer Marik needed. "I'll do it if Bakura wears the collar," Marik said. "And I want to do all the talking. _And_ you have to let me call you 'Fluffy.' I won't have anyone thinking I'm not the dominant one in this relationship."

Bakura opened his mouth to protest, but immediately reconsidered. It wasn't sex, but an inadvertent kinky game would have to do. Trying to repress his smirk, he huffed his bangs out of his face and groused, "Whatever."

"'Whatever,' what?" Marik prompted crossing his arms.

The movement pulled Bakura closer, but Marik didn't seem to register that. Another sigh. Another inward smirk. "Whatever... Master Marik..."

"Good Fluffy." Marik patted him on the head.

Bakura melted a little inside. Maybe he owed Ryou one for this.


End file.
